The Pain of Being

Some have experienced the "lightness of being" - apparently even an unbearable lightness, whatever that could be. I, on the other hand, experience more pain.

Yours truly will be heading out in an hour or so to again try my hand at golf, which has gone better than expected in the first three rounds after a full year away from the clubs to play a round of surgeries. And I know just what pains to expect as I make my consciously slower and gentle swings. Naturally I will walk much of the course, trying desperately to rebuild my physical strength; however by the last three or four fairways, I will give in to the need to ride along with a playing companion who will have his EZ-Go and will nicely have hauled my clubs for me the whole round.

From experience I know to stay upright and erect as possible to avoid some of the pain in my back. No, this is not related to my cancer or surgeries - it's simply some of the familiar pain I have lived with for decades. During the first part of the golf match, while forcing myself to walk as straight and tall as my back will allow, I am forced by time considerations to "hop" into the cart at four of the longer sections of concrete and asphalt (street) crossings between greens & tees. Each time I then need to exit the cart for the next shot, my back screams at me for the change of position and I usually have to grab the cart to hand-over-hand pull myself back to the fully upright stance for walking. My playing buddies, when noticing this, always ask whether I am going to be able to finish the round, to which I have to answer, "I wish I knew."

This morning's round is already in question as I practically collapsed on my first step from the bed. But since I walked for the length of my home and started the coffee brewing, I have been able to manage a convincing uprightness. Now the next problem is leaving this chair I have occupied for over half an hour. The challenge is a bit daunting!

But life, as I know it, is still worth while.